False
by RandomCuteOtaku
Summary: "You know WHAT you do, exorcist. You fight in this war, to slay the demons and save the world. But do you know WHO you are? Are you sure? What is your real purpose? What are really striving for? Who are you really?" "...I don't know." A series of one-shots.
1. Chapter 1

"_You are all so small in this world. So very, very small. Yet, in your war, you are majestic and tragic. You are kings fighting for a dying kingdom. Powerful knights battling immortal dragons. You haven't a chance of survival, yet you fight on. And for what reasons? For humanity? For the greater good?_

_Don't lie, you are all selfish little ants, selfish, selfish, selfish._

_You are fighting for no one but yourselves. For your own selfish little reasons. Despite everything you claim to be, and everything you do, you are still working, not for your "Order", but for your puny selves. You are no heroes. So what are you?_

_Who are you?"_

Allen Walker, a boy of fifteen pushed into a war of ages, sits in front of a dangerous foe, whose only goal at the moment seems to be the destruction of the youth in front of him.

_I will rip out his heart with my bare hands. His death will be the best, I think; watching the panic on the once resolute face peak, hearing his screams ring in the night. His corpse'll be a thing to behold, that is sure, but what I'm dying to see is the life leaving his eyes. I want to see how brave he really is when faced with his imminent destruction. Let's see how brave you are, boy-_

The Noah pauses, his hand frozen on the boys still beating organ. He'd been too caught up in his own sick thoughts to notice the youth's expression.

Allen stares into the eyes of his enemy without fear.

And it is astonishing.

The man retracts his hand slowly.

"Boy, what are you?"

He frowns, eyes never leaving that strangely adamant expression.

_You've got some courage, boy. And it's that unyielding nature that's going to get you killed. It may already have._

"Who are you?"

Allen stares on, unmoving and unwavering.

He cares not about his life, not in the slightest. He fears neither pain nor suffering, because he knows his life is worth nothing, nothing at all.

He is selfless, yet selfish at the same time.

He is willing to put his life on the line if it means others will be spared.

He has to save them. All of them.

He is brave.

Yet he is a man hiding forever behind a mask.

He is weak.

He is a lie.

He is-

He is-

"..Who indeed," he replies quietly, as the hand moves to his chest again, reaching in and puncturing his heart. For a moment, everything is unimaginable and well-deserved pain. Then everything begins to fade.

_Who indeed…_

_Allen Walker, the destroyer of time. Such a big title for so small a person. What have you done, hmm? What have you done to deserve this?_

_What is it about you that makes you so special? Why have they chosen you as their savior? The "savior of humanity"? How can you save everyone if you cannot even save yourself? Do you know? They think they know. But do you?_

_Do you even know who you are, Allen Walker? What are you? You are an excorist. You are a noah. You are neither of these things and both and all of them all at the same time. You are confused. You are alone._

_Who are you, false hero?_

_Who indeed…_

* * *

_**Author's note:** Right, so this is what happened instead of the third chapter of "Before you break" (which I'll be releasing sometime in the next few days, as I've been rather busy with schoolwork and such). I just happened to be...inspired suddenly to write something a little different, and here it is. The Italicized voice isn't really any fixed character, it's more like that irritating little voice in the back of your head; forever discouraging you and putting you down._

_Or something of the sort._

_May or may not turn this into a series, with the other three leads._

_I hope you enjoyed it._


	2. Chapter 2

_You have no heart, bookman junior._

My purpose was to record them, watch each and every one of them die in their "holy war", and then leave their corpses behind me.

I wasn't supposed to get emotionally invested in these people that, in the very end, would become nothing but faded ink on decaying records.

I was not supposed to get involved, or make friends. I was not supposed to care about them at all.

And I didn't realize I did until it was too late.

_Or, at least, you are not meant to._

We are the Bookmen, and our purpose is to record history, giving an unbiased account of the world and it's wars. We stand, silently observing in the background as the human Race tears itself apart, over the span of years

_You are a failure_

And decades,

_And a disgrace to your clan._

Writing down events and taking down names of soldiers, granting them a cruel immortality in the form of everlasting ink...

_A bookman with a heart _

Such worthless ink...

_Is no bookman at all_.

God's apostles they're called. Possessors of the innocence, using these weapons to destroy the Earl's forces. The blessed soldiers. And I was one of them. Me, an impartial observer, was to take a side in a war, and fight alongside them. But I didn't realize that I'd be fighting with myself as well. I saw it only as an opportunity to learn more about the ever mysterious "Black Order". I had no idea what those people would do to me.

They were not supposed to attach themselves so fiercely to me, a temporary soldier, only on their side at the moment to observe. But attach themselves they did, and that attachment wormed it's way under my skin like maggots, and burrowed too deeply and too quick through my body, like the disgusting, filthy creatures they are, those despicable humans, _**get them out**_

_But it's a bit too late for that, isn't it?_

Ripping holes into my resolve, and settling in the deepest recesses of my heart, attaching themselves to the walls that I myself I had carefully crafted and eating away at them, leaving me with a vulnerable and raw place that they filled with emotions, making me _feel _things that I shouldn't, making me _care_

_You care for them more than you care to admit, don't you?_

And slowly their presences in my life felt less like an infestation and more- more-

_More than you meant it to, right?_

No! More than it should've been! Before, they were nothing, no more to me than the dust on the worn pages that I was charged to fill, until, whether by my own weakness or their strength, they became _something, _they became a part of MY world, a part of a me that shouldn't have existed, a part of me that would have to be put to rest when all was over and they were dead, until they became too important for my own good,

Until "they" and "them" became we, and us, and I became...I dunno what I became…

_You became something of a traitor, didn't you?_

Shut up, there is no treachery if I don't act on these emotions!

_But you already have, haven't you?_

No! No, no- I, am a Bookman. I am following my dream. This- this is the life I've always wanted. It's all I've ever wanted, it's- it's all I have.

_You're right, it IS all you have. From a boy with nothing to lose and everything to gain, to a man, with all of the world in his head and all of his love trapped in his heart. You have absolutely nothing, not a trinket in your pocket or a penny to your name, and you cannot feel, cannot express honest opinion, thought, or emotion, because a Bookman has need only for a brain, and not a heart. So you lock it up tight inside you, the real you, lost in a sea of aliases that you've taken on over your years, getting lost and more muddled among them, until you're not even sure who the "real" you is anymore-_

_Or is that it? _

_You never knew who the real you was to begin with._

_You were an empty husk filled with nothing but an ever expanding hate and a lie, a lie that you kept building on, creating a different "you" for different people, designing and destroying life after life until "you" became a lie. And if "you" are a lie, then who ARE you, exactly?_

I am the 49th;

Meant to be forgotten.

"I" cannot exist.

…

_But you already do._

* * *

_Author's note: Well, that was certainly a slump that I don't wish to return to. I think I'm back, as far as writing goes, and I'll be updating stuff and posting new stuff and all that good stuff soon. For now, enjoy this little Lavi one-shot. I hope you like it, I made it twice as ambiguous as the last chapter._


End file.
